Hypnosis
by Someday Sara
Summary: Sara Watson, the spunky heroine from "The Seven Princesses" would trust her life to Holmes. But he's has been acting very strange lately. Can Watson figure out what's wrong before it costs both their lives?
1. Fencing

Author's Note: This is the sequel to "The Seven Princesses" and you might want to read that first! Otherwise, here's a brief version: a girl named Sara Watson moved to England met this guy name Sherlock Holmes solved a mystery about a really weird murderer named Mr. Donnelley and they sort of (ish) fell in love at the end. Got it? Okay, good, here goes:  
  
  
  
  
I shifted my weight, bending my knees and balancing on two feet.   
  
"Good, good," Holmes whispered, circling me. "Chin up," he said, tapping my face. I obeyed and he slipped the mask over my face. I squirmed as he tied the chest padding strings in the back.  
  
"I feel stupid," I said. My voice whistled through the mask.   
  
"Don't. You're good."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really." Holmes slipped his mask over his head and wiggled his glove on. He walked around in front of me and bent into position. "En guard," he whispered, raising his sword. No, wait, they call them "foils". I braced myself.  
  
Holmes struck and I blocked, then blocked again, looking for the opening he had been teaching me about. Holmes raised his foil to strike again...  
  
On sudden inspiration, I fell to my knees. Holmes' blade whistled above my head. Still on my knees, I lunged forward.   
  
"You can't do that!" Holmes said, leaping to the side.  
  
"Says who?" I fell back and rolled away from his downward sweep. Rising to one knee, I lashed out to my side.   
  
"Says all the rules of fencing!" Holmes yelped as he dodged. "Hold on, hold on, stop it." Holmes took his mask off and wiped his brow. "You know the basics, but there are certain rules in fencing. There are legal moves, and illegal moves."  
  
Now I took my mask off. "You've got to be kidding me. I could understand a rule like "don't kill the person you're fighting," but legal and illegal moves?"  
  
Holmes nodded vigorously. "Yes. And that was an illegal move."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Puh-leaze. You know, if you were ever in a real fight, that person wouldn't be obeying the rules. They'd try to surprise you, and you'd have to be ready."  
  
Holmes paused, then looked confused. "You know what? You're right."  
  
"Of course I am!" I smiled. "So, I think it's about time we broke some rules." I shoved my mask back on. "En guard, Holmes."  
  
I spun around with a yell and landed in an utterly ridiculous "karate kid pose". Holmes stood back, laughing, and I struck. His block was late, and I felt my foil jab his chest. "Touché," I said, smug.  
  
"Not fair, I wasn't rea-"  
  
I struck again. This time he was quicker and we circled each other, looking for an opening. Holmes swung. I ducked and lunged. He parried, and then lashed out. I stumbled backwards, landing flat on the floor. Before Holmes could strike, I pushed myself upright, holding my foil diagonally in front of me. Our blades locked. Holmes pushed with all his strength and I struggled to hold my arms in place. Shaking with effort, I realized for the first time just how strong he really was. I took one hand away from my foil and shoved him away.   
  
"That's illega-"  
  
I swung. Holmes blocked, then adopted my own tactics. He kicked out, aimed for my face. Startled, I fell back and felt Holmes' foil at my collarbone. "Touché," he said, every bit as smug.  
  
"Best of three?" I gasped.  
  
"Sure thing." He struck. My block was late, my next one later, and later. I stumbled backwards. Holmes, being decidedly silly, swung his foil around in a circle. I couldn't block, and his blade smacked the side of my mask. I cried out and stumbled away.  
  
  
"Watson!" he yelled, ripping off his mask and dropping his foil. Gently, he pulled my mask over my ringing head. He took my head in his hands, paler than I've ever seen him. "Are you okay? Oh, God, Watson I'm so sorry."  
  
The ringing stopped. "Aw, it's all right, Holmes," I said, shaking my head. "I'm fine. You didn't hit me that hard. No permanent damage." I smiled. "Really."  
  
I was surprised to feel his hands trembling. "Oh, Watson. I would never want to hurt you."  
  
"I know that, stupid," I snapped. "But let's go." We gathered up the fencing equipment and headed back to the rec room. I stuck the foils in their holders. Holmes put the gloves away and hung the masks on the wall. While his back was turned, I undid the strings on his padding. He shrugged out of it and then helped me out of mine.  
  
"Besides," I said as he undid the knots, "You couldn't hurt me if you tried." I expected Holmes to laugh, but he was silent.  
  
What's up with that? I wondered.  
  
I pulled the padding off the front of my sweatshirt and hung it up. I shouldered my backpack and we headed out of the gym. Holmes opened the door first.   
  
"All clear?" I asked.  
  
"Shhh, shhh," Holmes said. "There's somebody at the end of the hall… hold on, he's going, okay he left. C'mon! Go! Go!"  
  
We ran down the hallway, our sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. A. We weren't supposed to be using then gym and B. If I got caught out of uniform I would get detention. But, as I told Holmes, I was under no circumstances learning to fence in a skirt. Give me blue jeans any day.  
  
We dashed out of the school, then shivered in the crisp December air. I zipped my jacket up tighter, walking in silence. When we got to the corner of our block, Holmes broke off to his house. "G'Night, Watson," he said.   
  
I turned back to say goodnight, too, but something at the other side of the street caught my eye. A man was standing half in shadow. Just standing there. For some reason, it gave me the shivers. I hurried back to my house.  
  
Holmes' voice echoed in my head. "I would never want hurt you…"  
  
Stop it! I told my brain. You're just scaring yourself. 


	2. Dibs On Holmes...

"Good morning, Watson."  
  
"G'morning H-H-Holmes," I yawned, then shivered. "Chilly this morning."  
  
Holmes nodded in agreement. I stamped my feet and blew on my hands. Holmes laughed. "I thought you were from New England!" he said.  
  
"That doesn't mean I don't get cold," I said. We waited in silence for a few more minutes. Where was that stupid bus? I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to keep my teeth from chattering.  
  
Holmes laughed again, very softly, and put his arm around me. He hugged me and it started to snow. I smiled and put my head on his shoulder.  
  
Then with a squealing of wheels and clanking of metal, the bus pulled up. Oh, well. We boarded and I got a very, very evil look from Marianne. But let her look, I smirked.   
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Marianne and her posse cornered me on the way to lunch. "New girl," she said. "I told you to stay away from Sherlock and you didn't listen. Prepare to pay."  
  
I sighed. There were four of them and only one of me. This looked bad. "Marianne," I said. "Please. It's not my fault - " She swung. I ducked and her fist hit the wall behind me. I shoved her backwards and scrambled away.   
  
Her friends cried out and swarmed around Marianne, who was cradling her hand. "I'll get you for this, new girl!" she yelled at me as I ran.  
  
I stumbled into the cafeteria, panting. Calming myself and straightening that ugly pleated skirt, I joined the cue for lunch. Once I had paid for my tray, I glanced around for Holmes. That's funny, I didn't see him.  
  
I sat at our regular table and began to poke glumly at my food.  
  
"Hey, there, gurl!" Someone sat across from me. I looked up, surprised.  
  
"The name's Charise," the rather boisterous, cheerful girl extended a hand.   
  
I shook it. "Um... I... I'm Sara," I said, shyly.  
  
"Listen," Charise said, flicking a beaded braid from her face. "I saw you looking all lonely over here. Wanna come sit with me and my girls?"  
  
"Really?" I asked.  
  
"Absolutely-positively," Charise giggled. "You spend too much time with Holmes. Gurl, you need some female companionship."  
  
I smiled. "I'd love to sit with you, Charise." We both stood and she pulled me over to her table.  
  
"Gurls," she said. "I'd like y'all to meet Sara. You know, the new girl. Sara, this is Ann, Mell, Jess, Diane, and Molly." She pointed out her friends in turn.   
  
"Hi," I said, shy.  
  
"Hey," they said in turn. I sat down and they all began talking.  
  
"So, where'd you move from?"  
  
"Do you highlight your hair?"  
  
"I heard you play your flute in band, you're really good!"  
  
"Are you going to the dance?"  
  
"Are you and Holmes going out?"  
  
"New Hampshire, yes, thank you, probably and no." I said. They all laughed, and Charise slapped me on the back.   
  
"I told you she was fun!" Charise giggled.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
I found Holmes at his locker. "Where were you during lunch?"   
  
Holmes put his math book away and muttered something incoherent.   
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"I was just busy, okay?"  
  
"Okay," I said, and leaned against the wall. I bit my lip and gathered up some serious guts. "Holmes, willyougotothedancenextweekwithme?"  
  
Holmes yelped as he shut his finger in his locker. "What?" he said, and stuck his bruised finger in his mouth.  
  
I looked him in the face, apprehensive. "Will you go to the dance with me? Just as friends?"  
  
He took his hand from his mouth and looked me in the eyes for a long, long time. After a minute he spoke. "All right. As friends."  
  
I smiled. "Thanks, Holmes. I can't wait."   
  
We turned and walked to our next class. "When's this ... uh... dance?" Holmes asked.  
  
"The twentieth," I said. "It's a Christmas dance."  
  
"We're going just as friends," Holmes repeated, as he opened the door to science.   
  
"As friends," I agreed.   
  
Hahahaha! Yes! Mission Dibs on Holmes: Accomplished. Eat your heart out, Marianne. 


	3. Rascal

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! Also, I apologize to Moonshine! I didn't mean to steal the name Charise, I wasn't thinking of your story at all! I guess the name just got stuck in my head, and it popped out of my fingers. Many apologies, and I'll put in a plug for you: BE SURE TO READ "DARKER DAYS" BY MOONSHINE! hehehe...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I was becoming notorious for missing the bus, and Holmes and I walked home together, shuffling our feet through and inch of snow.  
  
"Did you see the look on Ms. Rogers' face when Stephen set the lab table on fire?" I asked, chuckling.  
  
Holmes laughed. "No, I didn't. I was too busy leaping away."  
  
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, almost bent over with mirth. "Sh-she looked like she was about to pop a coronary. And then she starts yelling - get out of the way! Get out of the way! Like we weren't all already."  
  
"Yes!" Holmes said. "You know, when a bottle says, "do not shake" you'd think Stephen would have the sense not to -"  
  
"What was that?" I asked. From the alleyway, something had whimpered. We stopped, listening closely. "There it is again!" I said, and hurried down the alley.   
  
The whimpering was coming from underneath an old cardboard box. Holmes came up behind me as I was lifting it away.  
  
"Ooooh," I moaned, my heart breaking. It was a tiny little puppy! It was white with brown ears and a big brown spot over its eye. The puppy looked up at me and whined again, but thumped its tail against the snow.  
  
I pulled the puppy into my arms and cradled it against me.   
  
"It's not wearing a tag," I said to Holmes. "And it's so cold." I cuddled it closer. "Poor baby," I crooned.  
  
Holmes reached out a stiff hand to stroke the puppy. "You're right," he said. "Listen, why don't we take him to my house?"  
  
"Why not my house?"  
  
"My house is closer." We walked out of the alleyway together.  
  
"By four houses!" I protested.  
  
"Okay, okay, if we keep the puppy it'll stay at both our houses. But my house IS closer."  
  
"Oh, all right," I muttered.   
  
Holmes opened the door to his house and let me in. I stood on the welcome mat, trying to kick the snow from my shoes.  
  
"Mom!" Holmes called, "Mom, come here!"  
  
Mrs. Holmes thundered down the stairs, kissed Holmes on the cheek, and said hello to me. Then she noticed the puppy.  
  
"Oh, you guys," she laughed. "What are we going to do with a puppy? We have no where to keep it, it's not housebroken, where are you going to..." she stopped. Holmes, the puppy, and I all stared at her.  
  
"Oh, no you don't," Mrs. Holmes tipped her head to the side and smiled, softly. "Three sets of puppy eyes! Oh, I can't take it. Take it to the basement and give it a bath." She sighed with the determination of someone who just signed her death warrant.  
  
Holmes hugged his mother and then ushered me to the basement. He dragged a huge tub out unto the middle of the floor and I set the puppy inside. As Holmes made multiple trips from the basement sink to the tub, carting buckets of warm water, I shed my backpack and jacket. The puppy howled, then sneezed as Holmes poured water on top of it.   
  
Holmes went upstairs and returned with a bottle of shampoo. "But this is people shampoo!" I protested, rolling up my sleeves.  
  
"Sorry," Holmes shrugged. "We didn't have any puppy shampoo." I grinned and opened the bottle. This is what Holmes uses... I realized, smelling it for the first time. I glanced over at him as Holmes rolled up his own sleeves, smiling at the puppy. His brown hair fell in slashes against his face and... what was that? I thought I saw a gold chain around his neck. That's odd, I hadn't noticed it before. But whatever.  
  
The two of us hunkered down around the puppy. Holmes held him, and yes the puppy was a "him", down in the tub. I squirted some shampoo into my hands and rubbed the little guy vigorously. The dirt and matted tangles slowly came away. The puppy howled and Holmes laughed.  
  
"He says you're not very good at this." Holmes teased. I reached out and put soapsuds on his nose. He splashed water at me, and the puppy made its escape. Flying from the tub, yapping and spraying water everywhere, he ran around the basement.  
  
"Come back!" we both yelled, and chased him into a corner.   
  
"Gotcha!" I said, grabbing the pup around the middle. "C'mere, you little rascal."  
  
"Hey," Holmes said, helping get the squirming puppy back into the tub. "I like that. Rascal."  
  
"Hmm..." I said, scrubbing the new dirt out of our dog, "It's a cute name. I hereby dub thee - " I tapped the puppy on the head. "Rascal of Baker Street."  
  
The newly named Rascal howled, and we chuckled. 


	4. Party!

Author's note: Sections enclosed in asterisks are when Watson is dreaming.  
  
  
  
* * * *I could feel the heat on my face and hear the crackling flames. My head throbbed and my eyelids drooped. I was so sleepy, I couldn't move. Mr. Donnelley smiled and wrapped his arms around me. "Come, Princess," he whispered, and pulled me into the pit of fire...* * * *  
  
  
I screamed, sitting upright in bed. My father came crashing in to my bedroom, fear in his eyes. I started to cry.  
  
"Baby," Dad said, softly. "What's wrong?" He sat on the edge of my bed.   
  
"I-I had another nightmare," I said, snuggling close, sniveling.  
  
"You were crying out for your friend the whole time," Dad said.   
  
"My friend?" I asked.  
  
"Holmes. You were crying for Holmes."  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
"Good morning, Watson."  
  
"Good morning, Holmes," I said, pulling my hat on tighter, my teeth chattering. "Another wonderfully tropic day here in this temperate climate." I pulled a scarf around my mouth. "A won'erful 'ay oo be ou'side. Feezin' my nose doff."  
  
Holmes chuckled and I danced around in a circle. "I wan' Flori'a. I wan' Flori'a." I said, then stopped. "By 'ee way, 'ow's 'Ascal?"  
  
"He's fine," Holmes answered. "Colleen won't leave him alone. He'll be in good hands while we're at school."   
  
"'At's good," I said. I noticed the gold chain around Holmes' neck again. I pulled down my scarf to ask him about it, but then the bus pulled up. We clambered on board and I forgot to say anything.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Where's Holmes? I wondered, as I scanned the cafeteria. I shifted my hold on the lunch tray and frowned. That's so strange. He was right behind me a minute ago...  
  
Charise and her crowd waved at me, and I went to sit with them.   
  
"Gurl," Charise said, "Tell us about it."  
  
"About what?" I asked, half way to taking a bite of my pizza.  
  
"Your boy, gurl!" Charise said. "You got that look on your face like your best friend died."  
  
I put the piazza down. "Okay, first of all," I snapped, "Holmes is not my boy, never has been, never will... be..." I stammered and bit my lip, fighting back the tears.  
  
"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," Charise said gently.   
  
"Ignore her," Mell said from across the table. "She doesn't know what she's talking about, anyway." Charise stuck her tongue out at Mell.   
  
"Hey," Diane said from across the table. "Why don't you invite her for Friday?"  
  
Charise grinned. "That's a great idea." She turned to me. "So, Sara, I'm havin this big blow out party at my house tomorrow night. You wanna come? Your folks gonna be cool with that?"  
  
I smiled. "I'd love to come. I think my mom and dad would let me... will your parents be home?"  
  
"Aren't they always?" Charise rolled her eyes. "You folks can come meet mine, if you want."  
  
"Sounds great!" I said, and took a bite of my piazza.   
  
Jess chuckled. "And there's gonna be BOYS!"  
  
I grinned.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
"Holmes, you weren't at lunch again," I was just in time to watch the buses pull away.   
  
Holmes didn't reply.  
  
"Oh, come on, where were you? You can tell me..." I poked at his shoulder. "Holmes?"  
  
"It's none of your business," he snapped, and glared at me. I shut up. I don't know, maybe it was a guy thing...  
  
After a moment of walking in silence, I asked if I could come see Rascal.  
  
"Sure. We can take him on a walk," suggested Holmes.   
  
  
Rascal was so cute - galloping on ahead of us on the lead that Holmes had bought. He would stick his head in a clump of snow, snuffle, and then howl softly. I held the leash and Holmes and I chatted about the day. Nothing of particular interest. Then I told him about the party.  
  
"You're going to Charise West's part?" he gasped.  
  
"Yeah, why?"   
  
"Charise West is, by definition, the most popular girl in school. Why would she invite you?"  
  
I stared. "Excuse me?" I asked, shocked. "What? Like I can't be popular? She happens to be really nice."  
  
"I'll bet. What did you do to get invited?"  
  
I stopped walking. Rascal sat in the snow and looked at us, a question in his little puppy eyes.  
  
"For your information," I snarled. "I didn't do anything to get invited. She had invited me because I was all by myself at lunch. Because you were off... somewhere. Where were you, anyway? Snogging with Marianne?"  
  
Uh-oh. Now I've done it.  
  
Holmes absolutely blew up. "Where I was is none of your business!" he yelled, red in the face. "You... you little..." Holmes stopped, and paled. His hand went slowly to his neck and he took a great gasping breath. Then he shook his head.  
  
"Watson, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm, I'm just a little jealous, I guess. I shouldn't have gotten angry."  
  
"No, Holmes, I'm the one who's sorry...and I... but what IS that around your neck?" I asked, taking a step closer.  
  
Holmes hid the necklace beneath his shirt, but not before I got a good look at it. It was a golden chain, polished to a shine. On the chain was an oval-shaped charm with a beetle etched into it. "It's nothing, nothing," Holmes said, and took Rascal's lead from my hand. "Let's go home."  
  
"Holmes, what's wrong?"  
  
He never answered.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
"Who does he think he is, keeping secrets from me?" I stormed around my room, throwing a pillow at the wall. "I want to know what's up with him, but he won't tell me. Am I too nosy? Does he even care about me? Urgh, I could - " I twisted the pillow around in my hands.  
  
"Saaaaa-rraaa!" Mom yelled from downstairs. "You're friend is here to see you!"  
  
Thinking it was Holmes, I dashed down the staircase, then stopped, surprised to see Charise.  
  
"Did you forget about the party?" she asked, with her famous lopsided grin.  
  
"Oh, my gosh, yes!" I gasped. "I wasn't even thinking..." I looked down at my school uniform, wrinkled from lounging around the house.  
  
Charise hefted a make up bag onto her shoulder. "Party starts in an hour. Gurl, let's get you ready!"   
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Charise thumbed through my closet, making little tisk! noises. "Don't you have anything hip to wear?"  
  
"What do you mean, hip?"  
  
"Like this!" Charise pulled out my sparkling pink tank top.  
  
I laughed. "You've got to be kidding me! I bought that as a joke!"  
  
"No joke," Charise said, and threw it at me. "Wear that, hmmm, these jeans and oh! this cute little jacket."  
  
I got dressed as Charise dug through her makeup bag. "Sit down," she told me, and uncapped an eyeliner. She penciled in my eyes and then coated them in something sparkly. "Very nice," she said as she applied blush. Then came some lip gloss. "Smoosh!" she told me, and I rubbed my lips together and grinned. Charise held up a mirror.  
  
I stared. This wasn't the Watson I knew. Gone were the glasses and the mess of tangled hair. My eyes looked bigger and more striking, and my lips shimmered. "You look good," Charise said, giving my a thumbs up. "Let's get this party started."  
  
Giggling, we thundered down the stairs. "Have a nice time!" Mom called as we raced out the door.   
  
"Hey, wait a second!" Dad called, "You're not going out looking like THAT, young la - " Mom hit him on the shoulder. "Of course she is," she said.  
  
I could here the music from three houses away, and when Charise opened the door, I was almost blown backwards by the light and the noise.  
  
When my eyes and ears adjusted I recognized my friends from lunch. They waved me over and we chatted for what seemed like hours. Then Charise pulled me out on to the dance floor. "Let's see what you got, girl!"  
  
I started to dance, bouncing in time to the music, laughing. The girls from lunch came over and we started, as Charise put it, "pumping".  
  
The song ended and, exhausted, we slid to the side. Molly handed me a soda and I opened it, thanking her. Jess came over to me. "Don't look now," she said, quietly. "But Brad is totally crunching you."  
  
"Who's Brad?" I asked.   
  
"See that kid with the blonde hair, over there with the Coca-Cola? That's Brad," Jess said, admiringly.  
  
Brad kept sneaking me looks from the corner of his eye, then laughing with his little group of friends.  
  
"Do I want to be crunched?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.  
  
"When it's Brad?" Charise said, "Ooooh, yeah."  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
I hummed a bit of song, then laughed, then twirled through a street light. It was late but I could see my house up ahead. And what a party! That Brad was so cute...  
  
Singing under my breath, I spun in a slow circle. When I turned back, Holmes was standing right in front of me.  
  
I jumped and gasped, then put a hand over my heart. "Oh, you scared me." I said, taking a deep breath. "What are you doing out this late, anyway?" I asked.  
  
Holmes was looking at me strangely. He bit his lip and reached a hand out to my cheek. "Watson? What did you do to your face?"  
  
"It's called makeup, Holmes." I said, a little angry. "I am a girl, you know."  
  
"I know," Holmes said, and took his hand from my cheek. "Listen, are we still on for the dance Friday?"  
  
Now I smiled. "Of course!"  
  
"Goodnight, Watson," Holmes said, and began to walk away.   
  
"Where are you going?" I called after him, "Your house is the other way!"  
  
He never answered. 


	5. Fear, Again

I knew something was wrong the moment I got to the bus stop Monday. Instead of his usually, cheerful 'good morning, Watson,' Holmes was staring straight in front of him.  
  
"Holmes?" I asked gently.  
  
He didn't turn around. "Holmes?" I asked again, a little louder. Then I frowned. "Holmes!" I yelled.  
  
Holmes jumped and turned to face me. "Oh sorry, Watson," he muttered. His eyes were dark and he didn't seem to be able to focus on my face.   
  
"Holmes!" I said, putting my hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"  
  
Holmes swayed, as though dizzy. "I - I just didn't get much sleep last night. That's all."  
  
I stared in disbelief, and put a hand to his forehead. "You're - you're feverish."  
  
Closing his eyes, Holmes took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Really."  
  
The golden necklace caught my eye, and I had an idea. I pulled Holmes into a big hug, pretending sympathy. "Oh, poor hon..." I murmured, putting my arms around his neck. Gently, so he wouldn't feel it, I undid the clasp of the necklace. As an added distraction, I kissed his cheek. Holmes stiffened, uncomfortable, and I pulled the chain away.   
  
I hid the necklace in the palm of my hand as the bus pulled up.   
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Okay, this was getting annoying. Holmes was right behind as we left math, but when I got to the cafeteria he wasn't there. Slamming my tray down next to Charise, I took the necklace from my pocket.  
  
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" I asked her.  
  
Charise took it from my hands. "No, I haven't. That's really weird."  
  
I took the chain back and examined the beetle that hung from it. It looked like solid gold, and it wasn't a locket. I ran my fingers over the carving and flipped it around. Frowning, I held it up to the light. It swayed slowly in my fingers, making my eyes go crossed. I shook my head and put the necklace in my bag, ignoring the weird looks from the other girls.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
I found Holmes after school. He was waiting for me, and we walked home together. His eyes seemed clearer and sharper, and he was talkative and, apparently, happy.  
  
"So, are you up to the dance tonight?" I asked.  
  
Holmes nodded. "I'm not really a dance person," he said, but then looked me in the eyes and smiled. "But for you, I'll make an exception."  
  
I grinned.   
  
We chatted the rest of the way home, but when we got to our block, Holmes veered off to the left.   
  
"Where are you going?" I asked, exasperated.  
  
True to form, he never answered.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
I sighed and put a little lip gloss on. Mom ran a brush through my hair. "You look very pretty," she said. I ran my hands down my shimmering skirt and smiled.   
  
"I feel pretty," I agreed.  
  
My mom got the car keys. "Let's get you to the dance."  
  
  
  
I stood in the parking lot, shivering a little. I pulled my coat closer around me and stamped my feet. Where was Holmes? Oh, well, I reasoned with myself. Maybe he's already inside.  
  
I opened the door to the school and enjoyed the feeling of warm air. I checked my coat, straightened my skirt, tugged on my hair, and walked into the gym.  
  
The whole place was decorated in red and green. Mistletoe hung from the ceiling, along with streamers and silver balloons. The DJ and the corner was banging his head in time to the music, and everyone was dancing. I frowned and squinted my eyes, trying to find Holmes.  
  
As I walked around the gym, Charise and Co. called out to me. I waved hello but continued my search.  
  
Five songs and three trips around the gym later, I finally accepted the truth. Holmes just wasn't there.  
  
I felt the tears well up in my eyes and I hurried from the dance floor.   
  
Unfortunately, Marianne was blocking the door. "So," she smirked, "Where's Holmes? Or did he finally decide he needed a REAL girlfriend?"  
  
I choked and pushed past her, trying to ignore the cruel laughter. Sniffling, forgetting my coat, I dashed outside.  
  
I sat on the steps and hid my head in my hands. I can't believe Holmes did this to me, I thought.  
  
"Hey,"  
  
I looked up. It was Brad.  
  
"You've got to ignore Marianne. She's a brat anyway," he said, sitting down next to me.   
  
"He just didn't show up," I whispered, fighting tears. "He told me he would but he ... he never..."  
  
Brad was watching me, sympathy in his bright blue eyes. He put his arm around me and drew me a little closer. "Anyone who didn't show for YOU doesn't deserve you."   
  
I smiled. "Thanks."  
  
Brad cleared his throat. "Say, would you like to dance?"  
  
I looked at him. He was cute, he was nice, but he wasn't Holmes...  
  
"I'd love to," I said, and we walked back into the school.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Mom knew there was something wrong the minute I got in the car.  
  
"What's up?" she asked, twisting around in the driver's seat. I told her about Holmes, then about Brad. We talked for a while about how stupid boys were, and I felt a little better. But something was bugging me.  
  
When I got home, I changed into my pajamas and washed my face, trying not to cry. Then I heard the doorbell. I clambered down the stairs and opened the door, shivering from the gust of cold air.  
  
Holmes was standing there, Rascal at his side. He looked miserable.  
  
I started to shut the door. "No, Watson, please," Holmes said. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I don't even remember-" Now I did slam the door, and hurried upstairs, crying. How could he? How could he even show up?   
  
I went to my room and dug through my bag, looking for a good book. My fingers found the golden chain.  
  
I pulled it out and looked at it again. It swung back and forth in my fingers... back and forth... I shook my head. This was giving me a headache. But it also gave me an idea.  
  
I snuck downstairs and booted up my computer, signing online. I went to the AOL (yes, american to the last) search engine.  
  
"necklace" I typed.  
  
678,879,342,125 Results. Um, that would take forever. "talisman" I typed.  
  
324,687 results. That's a little better. How about "golden talisman" ?  
  
121 results. I bit my lip and started clicking on links.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
Three hours later I was falling asleep at the keyboard. It was two in the morning, and my eyes were sore from staring at the screen. I clicked on one last link.  
  
One of those annoying pop up ads filled my screen. "QUIT SMOKING!" it screamed in my face. "THE EASY WAY! Try Hypnosis today! Safe, easy, painless. You'll never remember." I sighed and started to close the window.  
  
Then I gasped. And stared.   
  
Hypnosis.  
  
I held the necklace up. It swung back and forth... back and forth.  
  
Slamming into the keyboard I searched for "hypnosis". After trying a few links, I found what I was looking for. Under an online encyclopedia, I read:  
  
"Hypnosis, the use of mind control, is often used among cults. The Fallen Reach, Black Marauders, and the third cult Di-hana are the most frequent."  
  
I could have fallen off my chair. Wide awake now, and trembling, I scrolled down the page.   
"The Di-hana," it said, "Often mark their victims with a golden beetle strung on a chain."  
  
I couldn't breathe. The chain dropped from my fingers. "But they all died," I whispered, terrified. "They all died..." 


	6. Fighting

I didn't sleep. It was all I could do to wait until sunrise. At six thirty, I was dressed in my jeans and tee shirt, bundled up against the cold, and banging on Holmes' door for all I was worth.  
  
Mrs. Holmes answered the door. "Watson?" she asked.  
  
"Where's Holmes?" I gasped.  
  
"Sherlock?" Mrs. Watson looked confused. "He just left ten minutes ago. He said he was going to practice fencing... with you!"  
  
With that, I was off, running for the school.  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
I burst into the gym, wiping damp hair from my face. Holmes standing at the other end, his back to me. "Holmes," I gasped. "Holmes, are you okay? Listen, I..."  
  
Holmes turned around and I stopped talking. There was something desperately wrong. His eyes were empty, and he looked straight through me. I trembled.  
  
He was holding two fencing swords, and he walked towards me. I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it aside. "Holmes, listen to me, its Watson..."  
  
Holmes handed me a sword, and I took it with a shaking hand. "Holmes! We should be wearing masks and..." The sword was unusually heavy, and I ran my thumb along the blade. I gasped - a red line of blood appeared. "Holmes, these are real blades!"  
  
"En guard, Princess," someone whispered from behind me.  
  
I didn't have to look. I would recognize that voice anywhere. And I didn't have time to look. Holmes raised his blade and struck.  
  
I blocked, terrified. He swung again, and again. "Holmes!" I screamed, "Stop it!"  
  
He lunged for my middle, and I dodged to the side, smacking his blade away. He parried, then lunged again. With both hands, I slammed my blade into his as hard as I could. His sword went spinning away across the floor, and I dropped mine. "Hol-" I started to say, but he had thrown a punch. I ducked and Holmes rammed his other arm into my stomach. I groaned and stumbled backwards, then ducked another punch.   
  
"Holmes!" I screamed, and slapped his across the face. He growled and threw himself at me. We fell backwards to the floor, grappling. I kicked him in the stomach and he slammed me backwards on to the hard floor. I saw little stars, and Holmes grabbed one of the blades. I rolled away and grabbed the other one, rising to one knee and fending off a blow. Our blades locked, and Holmes started pressing downward. I fell backwards, and Holmes kneeled above me, his eyes empty.  
  
"Holmes," I pleaded. "Holmes, look at me! Look at me!" Our blades were coming closer to my neck. "Look at me! You know me! I'm Watson, Sara Watson. I'm your best friend. We laugh together. We spend all our time together. And you - " the blades were an inch from my neck. My arms were shaking uncontrollably but I kept my eyes locked on Holmes. "You, you're my best friend! You're the smartest, cleverest, most wonderful person I have ever met. You are my best friend - you - you are Sherlock Holmes!" I screamed, sobbing.  
  
  
  
  
  
With a crash Holmes threw our blades to the side and swept me into his arms. His eyes were closed against the tears, which were flooding down his face.  
  
"Watson!" he moaned, rocking back and forth. We both sobbed, clinging desperately to each other.  
  
"No!" someone yelled. We looked up.  
  
"Mr. Donnelley," Holmes said, standing. He picked up a blade, shaking with rage. "We killed you once, and I would be more than happy to do so again." I have never seen Holmes so angry.   
  
The doors slammed shut behind Mr. Donnelley, and Holmes helped me stand. "He's dead," I whispered. "He's dead!"  
  
"People like that never die," Holmes said, crying again. He reached out to me and I couldn't help it.   
  
I flinched.  
  
I watched Holmes' eyes fill with hurt. I tried to find something to say, but we both knew it would be a long, long time before things were ever right again. 


	7. Epilogue

We walked along, Rascal jumping through the snow ahead of us. The fading twilight illuminated the snowflakes. I sighed, scuffling my feet along.  
  
Holmes looked towards the sky. "Watson, I'm so sorry. I never meant ... to... "  
  
"I know," I said. "It's not your fault."  
  
"No," he said. "It is my fault. I should have been more careful. I was poking around, and he found me again. I thought I was going crazy... I couldn't remember where I was, or where I had been..."  
  
I found Holmes' hand, and we walked in silence for a moment. Then he spoke again.  
  
"So, what's the deal with you and Brad?"  
  
I laughed. "There is no deal. He's nice, that's all."  
  
"You're not... he's not your boyfriend?"  
  
"Of course not. I don't have a boyfriend." We stopped and stared at each other. For a long, long time.  
  
"It would never work," I snapped, breaking the stare.  
  
"Why not?" Holmes asked, taking a step closer.  
  
"For one thing, we're friends and how could we solve mysteries if we... um," I stopped, and grinned. "And you're not very romantic, Holmes."  
  
"You don't think I'm romantic?" he asked.  
  
"Well... no, I never..."  
  
Holmes put his arms around my waist and dipped me back for a long, (romantic, might I add) kiss.  
  
Then he straightened and, with a cough, he and Rascal walked away.  
  
"Wait, Holmes!" I called, dizzy. "I've changed my mind!"  
  
  
  
He never answered. But this time, I knew it was different. 


	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE

AUTHOR'S NOTE  
  
Hello, and thanks for reading my story!  
  
I know that this was a bit of a wierd one, and it needs some explaining. I'll bet your asking - How could Mr. Donnelley be alive? Watson pushed him into a pit of fire, for crying out loud!  
  
So here's what happened: Mr. Donnelley fell and broke his leg, but managed to crawl from the old warehouse through a secret passage he had dug. Alive, burned and broken but alive, he needed revenge. He found Holmes and hypnotized him into trying to kill Watson. Mr. Donnelley figured that if Holmes did kill Watson, he would probably kill himself from remorse. Two birds with one stone, right? (shivers...)  
  
But I've got to end this on a happy note - thank you for all the great reviews, and if any of my friends review I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE! (hint, hint, Piano Ann)  
  
Um, well, Happy Holidays, everyone!  
  
Yours,  
Someday Sara 


End file.
